Shadow Walking
by dragonflight
Summary: She was one that was hiding from a past she was more than willing to forget. He was one that was struggling in the entanglements of a past that wouldn't die. This is my story of how Severus and Summer got together. It begins during the summer after Harry'
1. Default Chapter

Shadow-Walking (1/?)  
  
::Disclaimer:: I only own Summer Bailey and Arlé Reed and all of their families... A large apology goes out to JKR, wherever she is, for tormenting her characters in this fanfic (but if I were her I wouldn't be complaining too much: after all, how many of us have fans writing fiction with our characters?)  
  
::Spoilers:: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, "Harry Potter, the Phoenix, and the Snake" (a story of my own creation)  
  
::A/N:: This is going to be a previously undetermined amount of chapters about my new favorite character, Snape, and Summer Bailey, a character of my own creation. This story will be enhanced and will enhance the story "Harry Potter, the Phoenix, and the Snake", again of my own creation, but it is not essential to read that story to understand this one. Fortunately, I think all of you reading this are Harry Potter fans and would not turn down the thought of reading something about Harry Potter, even if it is one of my scatterbrained works. This begins the summer after GoF, and will finish wherever I want it to... I'll try not to repeat many scenes for those of you that are actually reading my other story. I'm sure I've bored you beyond belief with this Author's note so without further ado, Shadow-walking.  
  
::Prologue::  
  
A dark cloudy night looked down upon a group of wizards sitting at a table, eating, and laughing. The Great Hall looked very empty without the students sitting at their House Tables, and it sounded just as empty as it looked. The youth lent the Hall a lively quality which none of the Professors could quite fill.  
  
Albus Dumbledore watched as his fellow staff members laughed at a punchline that Flitwick had just proclaimed, and noted one face that was not alight with laughter. Indeed, Severus Snape had nothing to be happy about; what with the Dark Lord's return... Albus sighed and took a large sip of his wine, eyes not straying far from the tall lanky form of his Potions Master.   
  
It had been a little less than a month since that tragic turn of events that had brought about this unwanted return, and Albus still wondered what he could have done to stop it...  
  
Albus knew that Severus had felt the pull of his once-Master, Voldemort, several times since then, but the fact that he hadn't spoken of it to him had disturbed him greatly. His Dark Mark had been placed on him in his days at Hogwarts, as Voldemort had begun his rise to power, and the Mark had dubbed Severus one of Voldemort's followers.  
  
But Snape had turned against his Master, and for reasons known only to Dumbledore and himself, had decided to become a double-spy, informing Albus about Voldemort's many dealings. Whether Voldemort knew of this of not, Albus wasn't sure, and this worried him sometimes.  
  
He was snapped out of his reverie by the loud creak of a door; looking about, he noticed that all conversation had stopped and many of his staff had clutched wands tightly in their hands. He stood and watched as the cloaked figure pulled the hood off and flipped auburn hair out from beneath the cloak, and walked up with a slight limp.   
  
"Summer Bailey," Dumbledore called in greeting, stepping up in front of the figure and clasping its hand warmly. The teachers behind him visibly relaxed, but continued to stare at this stranger with various degrees of interest.  
  
"Albus Dumbledore," she greeted with a soft accent.  
  
"I'm glad you could make it," Dumbledore said, leading her over to the long table. She was rather pretty, he had to admit, with her hair falling lightly on her shoulder in gentle waves.  
  
"I am pleased to introduce all of you to Summer Bailey, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Unfortunately, we need this position more than ever now, and hopefully she will stay with us for a long period of time."  
  
He pointed out each teacher in turn, and was pleased to see that they all seemed to like her—even Snape, who had detested all five of Dumbledore's previous choices for the position, each for different reasons.  
  
When he introduced Snape to Summer, he noticed that they were hesitant to shake hands, although their light chatter told him that they could get along nicely. He wasn't quite sure if Severus had withheld his hand or if Summer had withheld hers...  
  
And when he caught a faint smile lightly touching Snape's features, he swore that he would keep those two together for as long as he could; Snape hardly ever associated with the other teachers when he didn't have to, and this was absurdly unlike him.  
  
After all of the pleasantries were over, Summer gladly took a seat beside Snape.  
  
Albus tuned back into the conversations floating around the table, knowing that if Snape caught him staring at them he would ask questions.  
  
"Where are you from, Bailey?" McGonogall asked, leaning into the table to see Summer better. "I don't ever recall any Baileys coming through Hogwarts."  
  
"I went to Durmstrang for two years and then switched to home-tutoring." This sent flurries of whispers up and down the staff table, for they knew that Durmstrang preferred male students and taught the Dark Arts as a specialty. This compounded with the fact that she was home-tutored, was cause for alarm—except that Albus had found her worthy for the position.  
  
As Flitwick was explaining the House Cup and the Quidditch Matches, a gasp halted their conversation. Looking around, Albus spotted the recluse Divination professor, Sybil Trelawney. She had her hands clasped to her mouth and was staring with wide eyes at Summer. She came around the table to Summer's chair, put her hands down, and muttered, "Summer Bailey."  
  
Summer was staring at the wispy Sybil with narrowed eyes, and if wondering if she had ever seen this woman before.  
  
Albus saw Snape lift his eyes to the ceiling and sigh exasperatedly; Severus didn't think too highly of Sybil nor of her "Inner Eye."  
  
"Summer," Albus said, "This is Sybil Trelawney, Divinations professor."  
  
Summer's eyes widened at the word "Divinations", making Albus think of the Muggle expression, "like a deer caught in headlights."  
  
Sybil didn't see this though; she had closed her eyes and began, in a misty voice, "My dear, much fire do I see... In both your past and future. And a Mark... a strange Mark on you arm that offers you much trouble..." Her eyes opened slightly and she whispered, "Death lurks in every shadow, dear..."  
  
Summer said, "And all of this I know and have heard before."  
  
Sybil's eyes narrowed and her voice became colder. "Perhaps you truly are a danger to the students here."  
  
Summer rose from her chair, pushing it back into Sybil, whose various chains and glittery jewels clinked softly.  
  
"Stop reading my thoughts," she hissed, and moved swiftly around the chair to stare, inches away from Sybil's face. As she glared, her eyes were filled briefly with a flare of supernatural red sparks. Sybil gasped in recognition of those sparks.  
  
"So it's true," Sybil growled, all mistiness gone. "You are..." her eyes flicked briefly to Albus, who merely cocked one eyebrow at her as if to continue. "... One of those things."   
  
"Yes, if you mean 'things' to be Elementals." Several teachers gasped softly at this remark, but Summer pretended not to notice. "A rather confrontational Elemental, too."  
  
The tension increased between the two women until Sybil looked away uneasily. Summer stared at her for a long moment and then turned to Albus.   
  
"Could you please show me to my quarters?" She asked, trying to ignore Sybil behind her.  
  
Dumbledore nodded and soundlessly led her out of the Great Hall, trying not to smile as he recalled a certain Professor who had had much the same response to Trelawney.  
  
And judging by the brief glance at Snape's face, he remembered as well.  
  
  
  
::Please review!:: 


	2. Chapter One

Shadow-Walking (1/?)  
  
::Disclaimer:: I only own Summer Bailey and Arlé Reed and all of their families... A large apology goes out to JKR, wherever she is, for tormenting her characters in this fanfic (but if I were her I wouldn't be complaining too much: after all, how many of us have fans writing fiction with our characters?) And the cheesy eggs belong to my friend, Jess, for whom this side story was created!  
  
::Spoilers:: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, "Harry Potter, the Phoenix, and the Snake" (a story of my own creation)  
  
::A/N:: This is going to be a previously undetermined amount of chapters about my new favorite character, Snape, and Summer Bailey, a character of my own creation. This story will be enhanced and will enhance the story "Harry Potter, the Phoenix, and the Snake", again of my own creation, but it is not essential to read that story to understand this one. Fortunately, I think all of you reading this are Harry Potter fans and would not turn down the thought of reading something about Harry Potter, even if it is one of my scatterbrained works. This begins the summer after GoF, and will finish wherever I want it to... I'll try not to repeat many scenes for those of you that are actually reading my other story. I'm sure I've bored you beyond belief with this Author's note so without further ado, Shadow-walking.  
  
::Chapter One::  
  
He dropped a pile of books onto his desk and cursed out loud as a fragile glass container toppled off the desk and shattered on the floor.  
  
"Reparo," he hissed, and the glass shards pulled back together. Another deft twitch of his wand and the container was back on the desk.  
  
Severus was already in a bad mood—Dumbledore was insisting on questioning the Dark Mark and whether he had felt its pull recently, and he had been rather cheeky with the Headmaster. As much as he appreciated all that Dumbledore did for him, there was a point when he went too far. And Severus knew he had stepped across the boundary quite some time ago, when he had assumed that Severus needed help to control the Mark's urges after almost fifteen years of dormancy.  
  
He was trying to help but wasn't getting very far... And Snape's patience was wearing thin.  
  
He sighed gustily and focused on the large collection of books in search for a potion he had set his mind on locating and making.  
  
He was searching for a potion that could control the nearly over-powering urges to return to his Master; as much as he would like to put the Mark and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named behind him, some things just didn't occur that way. Its urges were becoming quite a hassle, and he could only guess as to how strong they would be by the time the students returned to Hogwarts. He was not afraid of it but was wary of what it might do at any given moment when he was unprepared. And although he understood that he would have to return to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named eventually, he wanted to have something to fall back on. Just in case...   
  
His mind wandered, quite of its own volition, to the events of the night before. She was an "Elemental," as she had put it, and he had decided that she was a fire-Elemental, a "pyr-psychic." But he had no proof and he was not about to go up to her and ask straight out if she were so.  
  
Her past, too, seemed dark and shadowy. He was under the impression that private tutoring after Durmstrang meant that she had some talent that needed much mastery and command. Her pyr-psyche, if it was indeed hers, was the most challenging of all the Elementals to control.  
  
He shifted the books on the desk absently, frustrated that he couldn't seem to focus on them, and the crashing of glass brought his mind back to the present. He had bumped the same beaker he had broken not five minutes earlier, and he growled out the spell to put it back together.  
  
He settled back to his task with a firmer mind and was not distracted again until his stomach broke his solitude, and then went down for breakfast.  
  
***  
  
She woke slowly, her body protesting the changed time schedule. She was, as the Muggles termed it, a night owl, going to sleep at three in the morning and waking up around noontime.  
  
Sneaking a glance at the clock beside her bed told her that the time was 9:30. She hadn't been up this early since the last time she had pulled an all-nighter... She smiled at the memory and dreamily rose from the bed, determined not to fall back to sleep.  
  
She could remember fondly her all night studying sprees at Durmstrang, even though she had only been fourteen at the time. Durmstrang was highly competitive, and because she was one of the few girls there, she had to study extremely hard to stay there.   
  
Her mind drifted back, oddly enough, to the first time she had gone to the Divinations class at Durmstrang. It hadn't been called Divinations, but it still taught the basic concepts of divination. The purpose of the class was solely to sort out those that were truly gifted in the Inner Eye, and it was only mandatory to take it for a half-year course. The teacher had looked her in the eye once--and apparently once was more than enough for her. Many true psychics found the turmoil within the mind of an Elemental too much for their Inner Eye. Even though Merlin, a great psychic, had had a few friends that were Elementals, they had separated as the years went past and their skills had grown apart.  
  
She dressed quickly and stopped before going out the door to tame her hair in the mirror. She smoothed down her outfit, slowly revolving for a final inspection. She knew that she wasn't beautiful, but she wasn't ugly either, the main factor in her beauty her deep eyes and long lashes. She might have had any man she had wanted – except for the slight glow within her eyes, a tell-tale sign of being an Elemental. Most people thought that there was much Dark Arts in the Elemental's control of nature, a common misconception.  
  
She could remember well the day she had first discovered her Elemental abilities. Her mother had been so surprised when she had gotten an owl home, telling how her daughter had nearly burned down the classroom. Professor Karkaroff, her Transfiguration professor, had been so pleased at her unexpected talent, explaining wildly that she was Durmstrang's first Elemental. Fortunately, she hadn't injured anyone with it, but the threat of losing all self control to the fire was overpowering at times.  
  
Despite all of the bravado and fanfare surrounding her psyche, she had only a small amount of psyche in her blood. Summer could only imagine how a pure pyr-pysche lived; torn between sating the desire to burn and controlling that despire. Fortunately, true Elementals were extremely rare, and Fire Elementals the rarest of all Elementals.   
She found it odd that all of the teachers had taken to her so well. She had heard a bit about the previous takers for her position; one had been allied with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The one after him had been a complete idiot, using the power of the Memory charm, probably the only charm he could perform correctly, to create a false impression of his bravery. One had been a werewolf, and although he had been a great teacher, he was eventually hoisted out of the position because of the parents anger at having a werewolf in the school. And the most recent one had been a Death Eater, hiding within the body of another by drinking Polyjuice Potion.  
  
She stopped her reminiscence and went down to the Great Hall, determined not to be taken away from this job as all of the others had been. She actually wanted to be here, and was happy to be teaching.  
McGonogall watched her intently as she walked into the large hall, gazing up at the clear morning sky on the ceiling. Summer was immediately self-conscious and coughed irritably into her hand. She almost regretted telling that cooty old Trelawney that she was an Elemental.  
  
Almost. The look on her face was well worth the troubles it had caused, and it saved Summer from an awkward situation later.  
  
She sat down in the same spot as she had last night, and was delighted to see that several of the teachers around her were actually quite chatty. As much as she hated gossip, she truly loved to hold conversations. A dishful of food magically appeared before her, as it had last night, and she eyed it appreciatively.  
  
A tall, rail-thin woman with bright eyes and cropped, spiky hair smiled at her response to the food here. "I've never seen such good food for breakfast," Bailey said in response to the gentle question this teacher's eyes seemed to ask. "Actually, I'm not much of a morning person at all; I usually wake up just in time for lunch."  
  
"Hmm," the professor said in response, eyes atwinkle, "I know what you mean. I've had my share of long nights. Why, back in my fifth year here, I got a bludger in the nose and had to spend a sleepless night in the Infirmary... Quite dreadful, I might add."  
  
"Do you play Quidditch?" Summer asked.  
  
"Yes," she grinned back. "Name's Hooch, Robin Hooch."  
  
"Summer Bailey, but I'm sure you already knew that."  
  
"Do you play Quidditch at all?" Hooch asked and then took a bite out of her toast with marmalade.  
  
"I did, actually. I played a Beater for one of Durmstrang's House teams."  
  
"Really?" Her eyes lit up as if finding a soul mate. "Not a lot of the other professors have ever played the sport; they all think it's too dangerous."  
  
"Well, it is," Summer pointed out, "But it's well worth the danger for the thrill of flying."  
  
"Indeed it is," Hooch responded merrily, raising her glass of pumpkin juice to Summer appreciatively. Their glasses clinked together and Summer had to fight a smile while she sipped from her goblet.  
  
After almost a quarter of an hour of comparing passes, moves, and feints, Hooch glanced down at her watch and tutted in dismay.   
"I'm sorry dear," she began, "But I promised I'd help Sprout with her Greenhouses... You know how she is about promptness... So I'll catch up with you later." She eyed Summer and then her eyes seemed to travel up above Summer's head, and then she shot from her seat, heels clicking on the floor as she went.   
  
"Making friends, I see," a cold voice said drearily from behind her. She spun in her seat and was startled to see Snape looking across at her, inches away from her face. He slid into the chair beside her and scrambled eggs appeared in his plate. His goblet was filled with a deep red wine, and the flavor wafting from it made her mouth water.  
  
"I make better friends here than I did at Durmstrang," she said back, making him pause midsip and look at her curiously. He was probably wondering why she was bringing up Durmstrang; and inside she was wondering too...  
  
"Is that because you're an Elemental, or because you've matured over the years?" The seriousness of his response unbalanced her slightly.  
  
"A bit of both, I guess. I hope its because people have changed their opinions on Elementals," she added.  
  
"Could it be the fact that more Elementals are surfacing now than ever before? I've heard that there are nineteen in Europe alone."  
  
"Perhaps. But there's six or seven water Elementals alone," she stated and took a sip of her pumpkin juice, trying not to wince at the bitterness when compared to the wafting smell from his wine glass.   
Her eyes traveled over to his goblet of their own volition.  
  
He saw her eyes flick to his glass and quickly conjured up a crystal goblet of his wine for her. She looked at him with one eyebrow cocked, not sure why he was being so nice.  
  
He misinterpreted her movement as wondering why he drank wine instead of pumpkin juice; she wondered rather angrily if he had deliberately misconstrued her meaning. "I don't prefer pumpkin juice at all; I drink wine whenever I can." He motioned to her goblet and took another sip from his own.  
  
She brought the glass to her lips and took a cautious sip—and was immediately glad she had only taken a sip. The flavor was so strong, so sweet, that she could barely swallow it.. This wine was nothing like the wine from the previous night. She wondered if this was from his private stash: if so, she was honored.  
  
"What type is this?" She asked holding it up at eye level to see the multi-colored sparkles through the crystal side of the goblet. She noticed as well that he had a greyish goblet not at all like hers; it looked to be made of pewter, and glancing up and down the table she noted that all of the other goblets were made from pewter.  
  
"It is a batch a friend of mine made for me. He calls it 'Revenwyne.'"  
  
So it was from a private stash...  
  
"It's very good," she supplied, taking a larger sip. "What's so different about it; did he ferment it differently?"  
  
"He let it sit for ten years. Although why he would let it sit for that long when he could just as easily aged it magically, I'll never know."  
  
His eyes darted along her arms briefly, as if searching for something. She watched his dark eyes flick up towards her temples, and she understood what he was looking for.  
  
"You could ask about it, you know," she said with a smile, and he looked up at her eyes again.  
  
"What type of Elemental are you?"   
  
"Fire," she responded smugly.  
  
"The rarest of all Elementals," he stated amiably, but behind his easy visage things were clicking together. His eyes darted down to her left forearm as if trying to see through the sleeve, and then removed his eyes.  
  
"How do you know so much about Elementals?"   
  
"I've been bred to know."  
  
"Are you one?" She asked taking a sip of her wine.  
  
"No, although my mother was a water elemental."  
  
"Full or half?"  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Was your mother full-psyche or half-psyche?"  
  
"Ah. More along the lines of quarter." He tightened up at this point, something about the thought of his mother bringing back memories.  
  
"Are there any students you should forewarn me about?" She asked, steering the conversation onto safer subjects. She took another bite of her eggs and decided that she liked them with cheese.  
  
"Oh yes," he responded, a wicked grin touching his lips. "If you've got Longbottom in your class make sure you know the countercurse to everything you might be studying. He's a Gryffindor--although why he was sorted into that House I'll never understand. He is the shyest, clumsiest boy that Hogwarts has ever seen.  
  
"And then there's Potter." He spat the name like it was the killing curse.  
  
"Is this Harry Potter we're speaking of?" She asked.  
  
"The very same," he agreed, grimacing as he took a sip of wine. She had a feeling that the grimace was reserved for the Potter boy.  
  
"And what has he done?"   
  
"Everything from destroying the Dark Lord to uncontrollably bringing him back to power."  
  
Her glass was halfway to her mouth when he finished saying this, and it slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor, narrowly missing her leg. Silence slid across the table like a cloud across the sun, eclipsing the conversations with some undetermined silence.   
  
Snape reached out his wand and snapped, "Reparo totalus." The wine glass reformed on the table as if someone had recorded it breaking and then played the recording backward. The wine floated up into the cup almost lazily, and Snape turned his dark eyes on her once more.  
  
"Did you just say that... the Dark Lord is back?" she whispered, eyes wide.  
  
"I did." Snape appeared more than concerned at this point--alarmed was a better adjective to describe him at the moment.  
  
"Excuse me," she said through a tight throat and swept from the hall, silence and stares following her out.  
  
  
::Please review!:: 


End file.
